


Five Times Alec Hides His Tears And One Time He Doesn’t

by notcrypticbutcoy



Series: Celebrity!Magnus AU [4]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Cop!Alec, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Good Boyfriend Magnus Bane, Homophobia, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Mental Health Issues, celebrity!magnus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 14:24:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15245316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcrypticbutcoy/pseuds/notcrypticbutcoy
Summary: Alec has never been good at sharing his feelings, even with those he loves. Unfortunately, dating Magnus hasn’t magically solved the issue—yet.Or: In which Alec struggles with his mental health, Magnus just wants to help, and they both try their best.





	Five Times Alec Hides His Tears And One Time He Doesn’t

**Author's Note:**

> I’m going to repeat this at the end because I know people skim over these notes, but I need to say that this fic is immensely, immensely personal. It’s probably the most personal thing I’ve ever written. 
> 
> This whole series has been an outlet for me. Last year was a really rough time for me, and I wrote all these fragmented little pieces that were essentially me displacing my feelings and blurting our crap. Some of those pieces are going to be edited and posted in other fics in this series, and some are down below in this fic. 
> 
> None of this is, like, a diary of my life, of course, but this is very much authentic and written entirely from the heart. It is heavy, although I edited out a few of the heaviest bits, and it does deal with mental health issues and anxiety. So please read the tags. And while I’m at it, quick warning for homophobic language in part 1.
> 
> There will be a piece that correlates directly with this one, centred on Magnus.

1.

“Watch where you’re going, fag.”

The word made Alec’s heart stutter as he walked through the hallway, eyes up and fingers curled loosely around the strap of his rucksack. He blinked for a moment while he focused his thoughts away from the trig exam he’d just come from, and realised that whichever brain-dead Neanderthal had spoken was addressing him.

He stopped dead in the corridor and whirled around, fixing narrowed eyes on the group of freshman boys. Who the fuck did they think they were? What kind of freshman kids behaved like that?

“Excuse me?” he asked, voice freezing as he took a menacing step towards them, standing up straight to emphasise his height. He’d thought he’d stopped growing once he reached six feet tall, but he’d added three inches to that over the summer.

One of the boys rolled his eyes. “We said, watch where you’re going. Fag.”

The thud of his heart pounding against his ribcage was beginning to get painful, and he could hear blood roaring in his ears, fury and terror and paranoia whirling through him with frightening intensity.

But he didn’t mention the word. He couldn’t.

“Hey, shift it!” One of the junior girls Alec had history with approached, waving her hand at the boys in irritation. “You’re leaning against my locker. Oh, hey, Alec. You okay?”

“Fine.” He managed to get the words out around the anxiety that was constricting his throat and making his vocal chords ineffectual.

“You sure?”

He was fine. It was fine. Everything was fine.

They didn’t know. They were just using that stupid word to look cool and tough. They didn’t mean what Alec was worried about. Nobody knew. It was fine, it was fine, it was—

“Alec?” Emma was fixing him with a concerned expression.

“Yeah,” Alec said, tearing his eyes away from where he’d been staring into space to flash her a brief smile. “Yeah, I just- just need to go home.”

And he fled.

***

When Alec unlocked the front door, after three attempts, he couldn’t stop his hands shaking. He dropped his bag in the hallway and kicked off his shoes with trembling fingers and rushed upstairs, praying that nobody else was home yet. Isabelle was doing a lab catch-up, and Jace was out with some girl, and—

Fuck, why was he thinking about Jace? That would just make everything worse.

He slammed his bedroom door shut, the bang reverberating through the entire house, and leant back against it. His breaths came heavily, chest rising and falling too quickly. The room started to spin and blur and tilt, and strange spots dotted his vision as his head began to swim.

With a soft groan, Alec sunk down onto the floor. He tucked his head between his knees as he attempted to get his breathing under control. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In—

_Slower, slower, slower._

He inhaled steadily, counting fifteen fluttering, frantic beats of his heart before he exhaled. His breath hitched, catching, and he breathed in sharply. His chest hurt. An ugly noise emanated from a strangled place in his throat. Tears were wet on his cheeks, dripping off his chin and turning his skin a blotchy red.

It felt like hours until he got his breathing under control. He had one hand buried in his hair, tugging at the strands sharply. As the familiar surroundings of his bedroom came back into focus, as he felt the roaring, terrified monster trapped inside his ribcage settle, he relaxed his grip and took another slow, deep breath through his nose. Gradually, the world began to reorientate itself.

The sound of a key scraping in a lock made his heart stutter. Fuck. He hoped it was his father. Then he’d be left well alone. If it was Isabelle or Jace—

God, they couldn’t know. They couldn’t know any of this. They couldn’t know that he had panic attacks, they couldn’t know that he felt himself spiralling out of control on an increasingly frequent basis, they couldn’t know that he was losing his grip on life, sliding through days in a tailspin that was sure to end in devastation.

They especially couldn’t know that he was gay.

“Alec?”

Alec blinked in surprise at the sound of his mother’s voice floating up the stairs.

“Those are Alec’s shoes, aren’t they?” his mother said.

“Yeah,” replied Max’s voice. “And that’s his bag. Maybe he’s hiding.”

“He’s probably got headphones in,” Maryse said. “Or working. We’ll leave him to it, sweetheart. Come on, I’ll find you a snack and you can tell me about what you did at school today...”

Their voices trailed off as they headed into another room, and Alec released the breath he’d been holding. Max, perhaps even more than Isabelle and Jace, could never be subjected to... _this_. Isabelle and Jace were fifteen. Not children, not really, and certainly too old to be mollycoddled and incessantly shielded, but still his younger siblings. Max was a child in every way. He was ten years old. Alec wanted to protect him from everything the world would ever throw at him.

He scrubbed a hand across his eyes and sighed, before picking himself up off the floor and heading into the bathroom. Once he’d locked the door, he dared to glance in the mirror at his red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. He looked like a mess. He looked awful.

He’d fix it. He always did.

By the time he let himself go downstairs, two hours later, there was no evidence left of his earlier meltdown. He smiled at his mother and siblings, picked up an apple, and had a brief conversation with Isabelle about her lab. 

None of them suspected a thing.

***

2.

Alec wasn’t in the habit of looking obsessively at social media.

He’d been late to Instagram, to Snapchat, had never even attempted Facebook, and had signed up for a Twitter account as a means to an end rather than an end in itself. He had very little interest in the whole charade.

Except, of course, dating Magnus Bane made it hard to stay off social media.

Magnus’ Instagram was, Isabelle had been astounded to learn, entirely self-run and self-managed, and yet it looked like he’d paid a professional photographer to take his photos and organise his page. He was regularly shooting off updates on Twitter, or posting photos to Snapchat.

Alec didn’t mind. He’d grown up with Isabelle and Jace, and it wasn’t like Magnus was obsessed with social media to the point of forgetting the outside world. He was a public figure. He ran a business. He had social media platforms. It made sense.

Of course, Magnus’ Twitter page was, for his few million followers, a rather helpful place to speculate, and bicker, and argue, and get into frankly vile debates and arguments about aspects of Magnus’ life that were really none of their business.

When Magnus had first made their relationship public, he’d warned Alec not to look at the replies or the comments. Alec had completely ignored him, of course—but he’d been pleasantly surprised by what he’d found. Most of the comments under the Tweets about their relationship were fairly positive. Magnus hadn’t spilt Alec’s life story to the media - only his first name, and his job - but people had found out more fairly quickly.

He was, however, beginning to realise what Magnus had meant about looking at the comments. Some strange, masochistic part of him that he’d never quite experienced before just couldn’t stop scrolling through the replies to Magnus’ most recent Tweet, sent out earlier in the day.

_@magnusbane: Nothing makes Fridays better than a dinner date with the most beautiful man in the world_

_@banecatmeow: @magnusbane he is really not that beautiful and your relationship is boring, I follow you for your clothes smh_

_@banesbloominbiceps: @banecatmeow @magnusbane I mean I love magnus as a person but ya idrc..._

_@banecatmeow: @banesbloominbiceps @magnusbane ITS SO BORING like okay you’ve got a mediocre bf who probs just wants your money and will dump you and have an affair and break your heart, don’t be dumb?? don’t date random guys??_

_@fashion_sistah1998: @banecatmeow @magnusbane honestly why is magnus dating a cop? no on so many levels_

_@callmemaybemagnusbaby: @banecatmeow @magnusbane this relationship is just gonna end badly... dude probably doesn’t deserve magnus anyway_

_@whylife_is_: @banecatmeow @magnusbane yeah “nothing makes fridays better” than us hearing that magnus has come to his senses and decided to date someone on his level..._

_@jmorgenstern007: @banecatmeow @magnusbane i was at high school with him. hair. everywhere. is all im saying. if you get me._

_@banecatmeow: @jmorgenstern007 @magnusbane gross tbh_

“Alexander?”

Heart pounding wildly at what he was reading, Alec looked up from his phone, jumping a little as Magnus’ voice snapped him from the crushing haze of social media. He blinked twice, before remembering that he was in Magnus’ apartment, on date night, having been invited back after dinner.

Right. They were hanging out. They were having a nice night. Dinner had been lovely. He’d made Magnus laugh, and they’d held hands across the table, and Magnus had insisted on splitting a dessert even though they’d already eaten far too much. Then they’d walked through the city for a while, and Alec had taken Magnus’ hand and Magnus had smiled such a small, pleased little smile, but neither of them had said anything, and then they’d found themselves back at Magnus’ apartment, and Magnus had gone to the kitchen, and—

It was date night. He was with Magnus. It was fine.

Even as he repeated the words in his head, they failed to smother the growing sound of the opinions people had made known on Twitter. He knew he shouldn’t have let strangers make him feel insecure. They didn’t know him. They didn’t know Magnus. They had no idea what was going on between them.

And yet.

They had. And one of them wasn’t a stranger. J Morgenstern. Jonathon. Jonathon, two years below him, who’d once called him a fag in an attempt to look tough, had noticed immediately that he’d hit a nerve, and had proceeded to repeat the experience at intermittent opportunities for the resulting two years they were in high school together. Especially in the locker rooms.

“Alexander?”

“Hm?”

Magnus frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Uh huh.”

Magnus didn’t look convinced. He glanced down at Alec’s phone and then back up to his face, and his eyebrows drew closer together. Alec wanted to reach up and smooth that expression out. He wanted to kiss the tension away. But he wasn’t sure they’d quite reached that level of intimacy.

“Sure?” Magnus asked pointedly. He nodded at the phone. “Did something happen?”

“What? No. No. I’m fine.”

His lips pursed. “You’re not reading comments, are you?”

Even when just a small white lie would have made everything so much easier, Alec couldn’t tell Magnus anything but the truth. It was really rather frustrating.

“Maybe,” he said, a touch more stubbornly than he’d intended to. “So?”

“So, it’s obviously upset you, and you really shouldn’t do it,” Magnus said, not unkindly, but with a hint of reprimand in his voice.

Alec rolled his eyes. “You must look at the comments.”

“Well, sure. Sometimes. But I’m used to it. You’re not.”

Alec’s eyes flashed defensively. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Relax,” Magnus said, tone somewhat chastising. “I just mean that I’ve seen gross comments about myself for much longer than you have. It’s not a nice feeling. I don’t want you to have to subject yourself to it. People will stop caring in a week, anyway.”

“Sorry.” Alec cast his gaze momentarily downwards, but Magnus waved the apology off with graceful ease. “I can’t help it. I don’t usually. It was just too tempting.”

“Hey.” Magnus closed the distance between them and reached up to press his palm along the length of Alec’s cheek. “Alexander, whatever you read that upset you, I promise, it’s bullshit. I wanted you the first night I ever met you because you’re beautiful, but I want you now because I know that your heart and your mind are even more so. You understand me?”

“You can’t say things like that,” Alec mumbled, but his lips were twitching upwards.

Magnus grinned. “I specialise in doing things people tell me not to. It’s how I built my business.”

Alec chuckled, and leant in to brush a kiss against Magnus’ lips. When they broke apart, Magnus smiled softly at him and suggested that they find something to watch on Netflix for a bit.

Seated on the comfortable cushions of Magnus’ sofa, Magnus’ cat fussing and circling around them, Alec felt emotion crash down on him. The lights were off, save for the faint light bleeding in from the kitchen just round the corner, and the flashes of the TV screen. Magnus couldn’t see his face clearly. Magnus wasn’t watching him. Chairman Meow was currently debating whose lap to sleep in, so preventing any touching.

Alec turned away from Magnus, curling himself into the corner of the sofa between the back and the arm. He spared a moment to close his eyes and get a hold of himself. He had another hour of this movie to get through. Another day, he’d have loved to watch it—and he’d have loved the opportunity to be so close to Magnus for an extended period of time.

That evening, however, all Alec wanted to do was go home and cry at the cruelty of the world.

Chairman Meow pawed at his leg, snapping Alec momentarily from his spiralling thoughts. He smiled faintly, and stroked the palm of his hand against the cat’s head. The touch calmed him, just a little.

Just enough to be able to smile at Magnus when he glanced over to look at him. Just enough to follow the movie. Just enough to last another hour without crying.

Eventually, the credits began to roll, and Magnus stretched his arms up above his head, bones cracking. The sound made Alec flinch. Magnus frowned.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m good,” Alec lied. “What did you think?”

“Hm.”

Magnus wrinkled his nose, and, even with his mindset steadily devolving into panic and self-loathing and overload, he had enough mental capacity to note that sometimes, Magnus was too adorable for words.

“It was okay,” Magnus said. “But the ending was crap.”

“A bit,” Alec said, and looked over at the clock hanging on the wall.

Magnus followed his gaze. “Shit.” Alec blinked in confusion. “I didn’t realise how late it was.” Hesitation flickered momentarily on Magnus’ face, seeming distinctly out of place when Magnus was usually the epitome of confidence. “Do you want to stay?”

_Oh, god, no._

Alec tried desperately to make a calm, coherent excuse, and said, “I don’t have anything with me.”

“You can borrow whatever you need. I can always drive you home in the morning. But I’d feel terrible sending you back on the subway this late.”

“It’s fine,” Alec said, beginning to pick himself up off the sofa. He straightened, stretching his limbs out in an attempt to seem relaxed, and headed into the hallway to grab his things. “I’ll survive.”

He could feel Magnus’ eyes following him, even as he avoided meeting his boyfriend’s gaze. Magnus was always far too perceptive. Alec was worried about what Magnus would find in his expression.

“Alexander, if you want to go home, you can just say so. I won’t be offended. Unless there’s a reason I should be.”

That made Alec’s eyebrows draw together, and he paused in putting his shoes on to shoot Magnus a look of incomprehension. “What does that mean?”

Magnus twisted his rings around his fingers, the movement drawing Alec’s gaze. He’d noticed that Magnus seemed to do that when he was nervous. Alec had no idea why he’d feel nervous about—

Oh.

“This isn’t a rejection,” Alec said quickly, as he caught up to what was going on. It wasn’t the first time Magnus had asked him to stay overnight, but it was the first time since he’d made their relationship public.

Magnus laughed a little, lifting a hand to slide his fingers along his ear cuff. “Yes, darling, that’s exactly what this is.”

“No, I mean–” Alec took a deep breath. “I would say yes. But I can’t. Not tonight.”

Magnus searched his expression for a moment, eyes flickering across his features. Then, inhaling deeply, he said, “I believe you. But Alec, whatever’s going on, you can tell me. You don’t have to pretend.”

“I know.” Alec leant forwards to press a fleeting kiss to Magnus’ lips. “I’m fine. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

And, not waiting for Magnus’ reply, he practically ran out of the door, clattering down the steps and darting out of the building, away from Magnus’ too-knowing eyes.

He wasn’t used to people _seeing_ him quite like Magnus did. He wasn’t used to the feeling of someone effortlessly breaking through all the unyielding walls that Alec had erected around himself, formed of fear and reinforced by isolation. He wasn’t used to feeling like maybe, one day, if their budding relationship ever became something more, he might be able to let go around Magnus.

He wasn’t used to wanting to.

Alec didn’t shed a tear until he was back in his tiny little studio apartment, the frigid air drawing goosebumps on his skin. Alone, he let the emotion of so many faceless, nameless people criticising him for nothing but his appearance and his career crash down on him, and, alone, he broke.

***

3.

As he reached another dead end after hours of searching, Alec threw the case file down on his desk with far more force than necessary and let out a strangled snarl of frustration. This wasn’t fucking working, and he had no idea what to do.

“Lydia,” he said, spinning in his chair to catch the attention of the Sergeant. “Could you—”

“Sorry, Alec, I’ve got to go. We just had a call in about an armed robbery.”

She didn’t spare him a second glance as she pulled on her jacket and dashed down the stairs. Alec cursed - her, and the world, and himself - under his breath. He glanced back at his computer screen, then down to the case files, and tried to fight back the growing feeling of frustration and despair about how the stupid case was going.

To shit, was where it was going. Alec hated unsolved cases.

Especially ones Luke had trusted him with, specifically. Especially when people were relying on him. Especially when a family wanted justice for their murdered mother.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he just wanted to punch something. He wanted to swipe everything off his desk and watch it smash onto the floor in a mess of sheer destruction. He needed something to go right this week. Anything. Sleep had been evading him, during what little time he’d had to fall into bed, and his mother had been pestering him about some stupid girl, and he’d barely seen Magnus all week, despite the fact that they were as close to living together as two people could be without actually living together, and—

_Fuck this._

Throwing back his chair, Alec stood up sharply, downed the rest of the lukewarm coffee in his mug, and took the stairs two at a time down to the employee bathroom that only had one cubicle and offered some semblance of privacy.

He locked the door behind him and slammed both hands against the wall in frustration; he promptly hissed at the pain that shot through his knuckles. Apparently, hitting walls hurt. Who knew?

Somehow, he needed to calm the fuck down before he went back upstairs. He had to get himself under control. Push away the stress, fight down the hopelessness of all the dead ends on his cases, and focus on doing his damn job. He had to get it together.

He pulled out his phone to check the time, and was immediately greeted by the sight of Magnus, laughter stretching across his gorgeous face and making his eyes crinkle. The sight made Alec’s lips tip up and his heart rate begin to slow.

Magnus had been at a meeting with someone to do with London Fashion Week this morning, and he had another meeting with a client in the afternoon, but it was lunchtime. He’d be sitting in his office, probably gossiping with Ragnor or typing out emails to clients or discussing designs with his employees, but—

Alec called Magnus before he could second-guess himself.

After four rings, during which Alec slid down the wall to sit on the dubiously-clean floor, Magnus’ voice chimed through the line, soft and warm and unimaginably comforting.

“Hello, darling. This is a surprise. I was just looking at my calendar to make sure Ragnor hadn’t booked a six hour meeting on your birthday. He’s avoided it, smart man. Anyway. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I, ah.” Alec closed his eyes and held his phone with both hands, feeling like if he could just wrap himself in Magnus’ voice, it would be fine. “I just needed to hear your voice.”

“Oh, dear.” He could hear the frown in Magnus’ voice. “Bad day?”

Alec laughed weakly. “Bad week. What time are you going to be home after your meeting?”

“Fairly early. Seven, maybe. Half six if I’m lucky. What about you?”

“Late,” Alec said miserably. “Nothing’s going right.”

“My beautiful detective, if nothing is going right, maybe you should leave early and get a decent night’s sleep.”

“At yours?”

“Mmhm. I’ll buy Chinese on my way home, we can watch something mindless on Netflix, have a hot shower, go to bed early, and everything will seem better by the morning once you’ve had a good night’s sleep. How does that sound?”

It sounded so nice Alec could have cried. And when the world went blurry, and he blinked to clear it only to feel wetness on the tops of his cheeks, he realised that he _was_ crying. That Magnus made him feel so absolutely, unconditionally safe, blanketed by the unending depths of his love, that everything crashed down at once.

Fuck. No, no, no.

“That sounds good,” Alec managed to get out, and then pressed a hand over his mouth as his breath hitched.

He clearly wasn’t fast enough, because Magnus said, voice ringing with consternation, “Are you okay, Alexander?”

“Yep. I’m fine. Um.” His voice trembled, and he drew in a long breath as quietly as he could. “I don’t know if Luke will let me go early.”

“You need a break sometimes, Alec. I’m sure he will, if everything is a dead end. A clear head in the morning might fix everything.”

“Yeah, I–” He blinked rapidly and scrubbed at his eyes, before clearing his throat. “I...”

Fuck, now he couldn’t focus on their conversation because he was so worried about covering the sound of his tears.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

He had to swallow twice before he could respond. “I’m fine, Magnus.”

There was a pause. Then, gently but saturated with worry, “Are you crying?”

“No! Look, I’ve got to go, I—”

He ripped the phone away from his ear and hit end call before he could confirm Magnus’ suspicions by letting a sob escape. The line cut just as it bubbled up his throat. He pressed his forehead into his knees, cursing himself and his stupid, stupid anxiety. Why couldn’t he just have fucking admitted that he was so far from okay he’d locked himself in a bathroom, and let Magnus cheer him up, or comfort him, or make him laugh? That was what boyfriends were supposed to do. That was what Alec would have wanted to do for Magnus, if the situations were reversed.

His phone buzzed in his hand; Alec wiped at his face angrily and then looked down at it.

**[From: Magnus Bane, 13:32]**

**You’re an amazing detective, so don’t let whatever you’re struggling with make you miserable. Focus on something else and come at it tomorrow. I love you x**

Alec sighed, a sad smile melting across his face as he read Magnus’ text over and over and over again, letting the words seep through him and fill his head like a mantra. The three words at the end made his heart skip. It wasn’t close to the first time they’d said them to each other, but it was still new enough to send a fleeting rush of happiness through him.

**[From: Alec Lightwood, 13:34]**

**Thanks. I’ll see you tonight. I love you too x**

And he picked himself up off the floor, stowed his phone away, and steeled himself to go back upstairs. Because, really, there was nothing else to be done. He splashed his face with cold water to get rid of the evidence from his crying spree, and unlocked the door.

***

The sound of a key grating in the lock made Magnus glance up from where he was stirring a pot of spaghetti and swaying lightly to the music drifting from his speaker. He didn’t get many opportunities to cook nice meals like this, let alone mid-week, but a light day had coincided with Alec’s terrible one, so Magnus had decided to put his extra hours into cheering up his boyfriend.

He didn’t call out a greeting as Alec toed off his boots and discarded his jacket, setting his badge down on the counter with his phone and wallet. It was so very domestic, and, not for the first time, it made Magnus really rather desperate to ask Alec to move in with him. They’d been dating for more than a year, and Alec had proven increasingly resilient to the ever-present drain of the paparazzi and nosey morons on the Internet. They were in a good place. Alec spent most nights at Magnus’, anyway. Magnus spent a night or so every week at Alec’s, and they spent a night or two a week alone, but mostly Magnus got to come home to this.

It probably wasn’t the right night to have that discussion, though. Not with the phone call they’d had earlier.

Magnus was still fairly certain Alec had been crying on the other end of the line - or, at least, close to it - but he wasn’t going to tell Alec that. Alec clearly hadn’t wanted Magnus to know, and while that stung a little, Magnus respected Alec’s privacy. There were times when he didn’t want to bare all, either.

The soft thud of socked feet hitting the mock-wood floor of the kitchen alerted Magnus to Alec’s proximity. He smiled over at him.

“Hello, darling.”

“Hey.” Alec seemed to be avoiding his gaze, eyes flitting around and shoulders curved in self-consciously. He peered into the pot Magnus was stirring. “That smells good.”

“Thank you. It needs another five minutes.” He turned a little, letting go of the ladle to slide an arm loosely around Alec’s waist and press a kiss to the softest part of his cheek. “I’m glad you didn’t stay too late.”

Alec’s eyelashes fluttered as Magnus’ lips lingered for a beat longer than they normally would, but, when Magnus drew back, he didn’t move to pull him back in. Magnus let him go. He wasn’t going to push too hard. Only gently.

“Thought I’d take your advice,” Alec said, moving away from Magnus to sit at the island.

“Was your afternoon any better than your morning?”

Through his peripheries, he saw Alec shrug. “A bit. Luke’s going to give me a hand with the case tomorrow.”

“That’s good. I’m sure you’ll get somewhere with two heads on it.”

Alec made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. “I shouldn’t need help on this case. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Magnus said sharply, turning to look at him over his shoulder. “You were so stressed and upset about this case earlier, I think asking for some help is reasonable. You don’t have to do everything on your own.”

“I wasn’t _upset_ about it, I just—”

Magnus pinned him with a look.

Alec flushed angrily. “I told you, I was fine. I am fine.”

Magnus turned the stove off and slid the pot onto another ring to stop the spaghetti cooking too much more, and moved to stand in front of Alec, who was watching him with a defensive expression in his eyes.

“Alexander,” Magnus said, reaching out to grip his shoulders lightly, “you are allowed to need help. You’re always there for others. Let people be there for you, too. Let me be there for you.”

“You were there for me.” Alec dropped his gaze. “On the phone, you—”

“Don’t make me say it, Alec,” Magnus said, as softly as he could. “You know what I mean. I know I wasn’t wrong when I said—”

Alec flinched. “Please, just drop it.”

For a moment, Magnus frowned at him, debating whether or not to let it go. But talking about it seemed to be upsetting Alec more than pretending it hadn’t happened, and that certainly wasn’t what Magnus wanted.

“Alright. I’m sorry. Just please know that I’m always here for you, okay? Even if I’m in a meeting with Madonna’s stylist, or running a show in Paris, I’m here.”

At that, Alec looked up to meet his gaze, a smile flickering at the corners of his lips. “I know. I love you.”

“I love you too, you ridiculous man.” Magnus leant forwards to drop a kiss on Alec’s forehead. “Grab us something to drink while I serve this up, hm?”

“Thank you, Magnus.”

Magnus smiled at him. “Of course.”

***

4.

Alec didn’t understand why he was so fucking incapable of being normal.

Being gay had been hard enough. Couldn’t that have been it? Wasn’t that more than his fair share of difficulty? Being gay and having homophobic parents? Being gay and being told he couldn’t see his own brother as soon as he left home, in case he _infected_ him with his beliefs? Or, worse, with his _affliction_?

He’d had a shit week. The kind of week in which he just wanted to come home, sink into Magnus’ arms, cry into his shoulder about it, and then go and have slow, all-consuming sex to soothe over everything that hurt.

But, of course, the moment Magnus had asked him about his day, Alec had trotted out his standard spiel, and now he couldn’t take it back. He couldn’t go back on it and admit that he was fucking exhausted. Especially not when he knew that Magnus had had a terrible week, too.

Besides, as soon as Alec had told Magnus the rose-tinted version of his day, Magnus had pressed an apologetic kiss to his cheek and told him that he needed to do some more work, and had retreated to his home office.

Alec started when he felt hands slide over his shoulders where he sat at the marble-topped island in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee between his hands. Fingers dug into the knotted muscles in his neck and slid down the top of his back, massaging at the tension he’d been carrying around with him all week.

“You done?” Alec asked, breaking the silence before he could let himself sink into the comfort of his boyfriend’s touch. If he did, he might lose his grip on what was left of his self-control.

“Mmhm. I probably should have stayed later at the office, but I wanted to come home. Perks of being in charge.”

Alec smiled weakly. “At least it’s the weekend.”

“True.” Magnus’ fingers had softened in their touch, and he was skimming his thumbs absently against the vulnerable skin at the back of Alec’s neck, just brushing against his hairline. “You sure your day was okay?”

“What?” Panic seemed to bleed into his voice.

Magnus let out a gentle huff of a laugh against Alec’s hair as he bent to kiss to the top of Alec’s head. “You just feel a bit tense, darling. Although I’m sure we could fix that.”

The innuendo in Magnus’ words was obvious, but Alec couldn’t summon any enthusiasm for it. Sex made them too vulnerable. It would make the fact that Alec was absolutely not okay too obvious. He didn’t want that. Not now.

A small, forced smile flickered at the corners of his lips. “I’m not really in the mood, babe.”

“Alright.” Magnus didn’t sound put-out. He never did. “How about a hug?”

Alec let out a soft, tired laugh. “Magnus, I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Who said anything about you, hm? Maybe I want a hug. I’ve had a long, difficult week. Maybe I just want to snuggle my boyfriend.”

They both knew that Magnus was lying, but Alec was only so strong. He rolled his eyes fondly as he turned on the stool, and stood to accept Magnus’ embrace.

The moment those arms closed around him, warm and firm and familiar, Alec let out a long breath. Tension bled out of him, and he felt himself begin to relax into Magnus’ arms. He rested his chin against Magnus’ shoulder, and, with his face out of Magnus’ view, he let the tears that had been burning behind his eyes trickle down his cheeks, just for a moment.

Neither of them moved. Magnus’ hands were pressed firmly against his back, the contrast between warm skin and cool rings noticeable even through Alec’s t-shirt, and Alec held him back just as tightly.

Eventually, Alec went to pull back. He turned immediately, swiftly enough to avoid letting Magnus see his face, and said, “Thanks. I’ll be back in a sec.”

The bathroom door shut firmly behind him. He slid the lock across, and braced his hands on the sink, looking up at himself in the mirror. He’d turned the same unpleasant blotchy red he always did when he cried. He needed to fix that before he went back out.

Five minutes and a considerable amount of water splashed across his face later, Alec unlocked the door and ventured back out into the apartment. Magnus was sprawled across the sofa, leaning against the arm with his legs up and his ankles crossed, a glass of wine in his hand, watching the original _Footloose_ film.

He smiled up at Alec when he heard him approach, and paused the movie. “Alright?”

Alec nodded, but didn’t move to join him. “Yeah.”

Magnus lifted his legs off the sofa and tilted his head towards the empty space. “Will you sit with me?”

“I was actually gonna head to bed. I’m tired. You don’t have to come. Finish watching your movie.”

Magnus inhaled slowly through his nose; he set his glass down, lifted himself elegantly off the sofa, and moved to stand in front of Alec. He lifted both hands to cup his face, searching his eyes for a moment, and Alec swallowed under the scrutiny.

“I’ll try not to wake you,” was all Magnus said, but Alec felt sure that he wanted to say more. “Sweet dreams, Alexander.”

“Thanks. I love you.”

Magnus smiled at him, small and soft and tender, and leant up to kiss his forehead. “I love you too.”

Magnus would probably have told him that he had a right to privacy, but Alec felt guilt gnaw at him as he shut their bedroom door with a click, stripped off, and climbed into bed. Because, under the cover of darkness, he let himself cry, and it felt far too much like hiding. And hiding felt akin to lying.

***

“Magnus!” On the other end of the line, Isabelle sounded surprised. “I didn’t expect to hear from you. How are things?”

“Not too bad,” Magnus said, swirling his wine around in his glass.

 _Footloose_ had finished, and Magnus had sat still in the darkness of the apartment for several minutes, lit only by the single lamp he’d left on, thinking about Alec. Yesterday, everything had seemed fine, but then, today... Something seemed off. Something with Alec seemed off. Magnus wasn’t quite sure whether he really was just exhausted, or whether something at work had bothered him, or whether Magnus had upset him (although, they hadn’t spoken since the morning, and he’d seemed okay then) or whether something else entirely was going on.

“I actually wanted to ask you something,” Magnus said.

“I guessed.” There was a smile in Isabelle’s voice. “Much as I know you love me, you don’t tend to call me at eleven o’clock.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “It’s Alec. I... Did he say anything to you?”

“What about?”

“I don’t really know. He just... He seemed off, tonight. Upset, maybe? I don’t know.” Magnus dragged a hand tiredly across his face. When the hell had he become bad at reading Alec? “I’m worried about him. He kept telling me he was fine, but he was tense, and spaced out, and then he went to bed at about nine o’clock.”

Isabelle hummed. “I’m sorry, but he hasn’t told me anything. But sometimes Alec does this. He’s not...always very forthcoming with things. Especially his feelings.”

“He is with me.”

“He seems better with you,” Isabelle said gently. “But he still is who he is. He’s private. Sometimes he struggles with letting people see that he’s hurting.”

“I thought he felt comfortable with me.”

“He does, Magnus. You didn’t know what Alec was like before he met you, but I’ve never seen him like this. He’s so happy with you. And I think part of that is because he feels that he can trust you with things he’s never felt able to say to anyone else. But he’s still got hangups.”

“I know that. God, maybe I called you more for my benefit than his.”

“I don’t think so. But if you did, that’s okay. I know how much you love my brother.”

Magnus exhaled heavily. “Thank you, Isabelle.”

“I’m not sure I helped much.” She laughed lightly. “Look, if there were something really, seriously wrong, Alec would tell you.”

“I’m just worried about him bottling things up. And maybe a bit worried that it’s something I’ve done. Which is definitely my own insecurities talking, but...” He shrugged even though Isabelle couldn’t see him.

“Hey, I get it. But my advice? Just go to bed. I’m sure it’ll all be fine by the morning.”

Magnus frowned. “I hate going to bed with things unresolved.”

“Magnus.” Isabelle chuckled. “You two haven’t had an argument. My brother is just dealing with his feelings a bit badly. It’ll be fine. You’re both tired and grumpy and losing it. So go to bed.”

“You give frustratingly good advice,” Magnus said, draining the rest of his wine.

“Ditto. Goodnight, Bane.”

Magnus smiled. “Goodnight, Isabelle.”

***

As Magnus hung up and swept off to the kitchen to rinse his wine glass, Alec retreated from where he’d been standing by the bedroom door, heart pounding as he eavesdropped. He slid back into bed, somehow feeling worse than he had when he’d shut himself in their room to hide. He’d never meant his own issues to hurt Magnus.

When the door cracked open and Magnus slipped inside, he shut his eyes, pretending to be fast asleep beneath the duvet. He heard Magnus getting undressed, and felt the mattress dip as he climbed in. There was silence as Magnus stilled, the sensation of his eyes trained on Alec from where he was propped up on one elbow apparent enough to make Alec want to run away.

“I hope you know how much I love you,” Magnus whispered, a confession that Alec wasn’t supposed to hear. “I hope you know that you can trust me. I want you to be happy.” A pause. “And when you’re not, I just want to be there for you.”

Magnus brushed his fingers against Alec’s shoulder, and then settled down, facing Alec’s back but not touching. And, with the cover of darkness to hide it, Alec felt tears slide down his cheeks again, silently, as guilt washed through him.

***

5.

When Alec woke, it was to the sight of darkness and the sensation of wetness on his cheeks and soaking into his pillowcase. The soft sound of Magnus breathing behind him was all he could hear above his own heavy, rapid heartbeat.

Fuck. He didn’t have the energy for this. He was exhausted, which was probably why this had happened in the first place, and dealing with it would only detract from his sleep.

Fuck everything. It wasn’t fair.

For just a moment, Alec considered rolling over and tucking himself into Magnus’ chest. They’d fallen asleep spooning, with Magnus pressed along his back and their feet tangled together, but they’d shifted apart in the hours since. Perhaps he could just press his face into Magnus’ neck, and slip his knee between Magnus’, and curl his fingers against the smooth skin of Magnus’ chest, and be lulled back to sleep by the rhythm of Magnus’ heartbeat.

But Magnus would stir if he did. And he’d wake up, because he seemed to have some sort of internal alarm that notified him of things that required his attention, and then he’d want to know what was wrong, and—

And the honest answer was _nothing, really_ , but Alec didn’t have the energy to explain what caused him to have minor meltdowns in the middle of the night.

So, with a silent exhale, Alec slipped out of the warmth of their bed, and flinched as his bare feet made contact with the cold floor. Behind him, Magnus threw out an arm in his sleep, as though he could tell that his partner had left him alone in bed.

Alec stood in the kitchen, hands pressed against the marble countertop as he stared out of the window, taking in the stars twinkling above the lights of New York City. He wondered whether anybody else was doing the same thing he was—evading someone they loved because they were too anxious to admit to upset that didn’t have a perfectly sensible explanation.

God, he hated himself, sometimes. Crying in the kitchen alone at three o’clock in the morning, when a mere few metres away lay someone who’d be desperate to help make Alec feel better, if he knew.

Maybe all those stupid people on the Internet were right. Maybe he was an asshole.

But, Jesus Christ, he was an asshole who couldn’t stop crying for absolutely no fucking reason. There was nothing wrong. Nothing at all. He was tired, sure, but he’d had a good week at work, and he’d been out to lunch with Isabelle, and he’d seen Max recently, and he’d spent the evening before having a nice night in with Magnus. Nothing was wrong. Nothing should have been bothering him.

And yet.

“Alexander?”

Alec froze at the sound of Magnus’ voice floating sleepily through the kitchen. The grip he had on the countertop tightened until his knuckles turned white, and he clenched his jaw. Fuck.

“What are you doing out here?” Magnus asked, and the soft sound of bare feet patting across the tiled floor sounded loudly in the silence. “Are you alright?”

Hands came to rest on his shoulders, and Alec closed his eyes. He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t bear the concern in Magnus voice and in his touch. He couldn’t bear such open, honest support and care and love when Alec couldn’t even tell Magnus about his fucking anxiety.

“Hey.” Magnus squeezed his shoulders gently. “Sweetheart. Whatever it is, I’m here.”

Alec inhaled slowly. He didn’t open his eyes.

“It’s nothing,” he said, thankful that he could blame the raspiness of his voice on having been asleep a few minutes before. “Sorry to wake you.”

He didn’t need to turn around and look to know that Magnus was frowning.

“You were very quiet. You didn’t disturb me. Your absence did. I’ve got quite used to having you in my bed, you know. Snores and all.”

There was a tentative smile in Magnus’ voice, a hint of teasing that was clearly an attempt to cheer Alec up.

Alec cracked a smile, but it was more for Magnus’ benefit than his own, because he could feel the hurt oozing off Magnus at his refusal to talk, or even acknowledge that anything was wrong, and he hated himself for it.

“Alec.” Magnus pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to the back of his neck. “Will you at least come back to bed? Just let me hold you?”

Alec swallowed. He wanted that so much, but if he let himself sink into Magnus’ embrace, he was certain that the dam would break. He couldn’t do that. Not then.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Alec said again, and it wasn’t a lie, exactly. “Really. Just restless. Couldn’t sleep.”

Magnus was quiet for a moment, merely rubbing his thumbs back and forth across Alec’s shoulders with absent-minded sweeps. Alec closed his eyes, beyond grateful for the darkness. Even facing away from Magnus, he was sure that he wouldn’t have been able to conceal the fact that he’d been crying in broad daylight.

“Why don’t you take a day off soon?” Magnus asked, after several long seconds of silence. “Just for a long weekend. Not to do anything, just to relax.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t right now, Magnus.” He lifted one hand to press against his face as his eyes stung and burned, and then blinked rapidly. “I’m going back to bed.”

He slipped out of Magnus’ loose grip before Magnus could say another word.

Loneliness struck deep into Magnus’ heart at the sight of Alec’s exhausted form retreating into the bedroom. As the door swung shut with a definitive click, he stood alone in the darkness of the kitchen, bereft of his boyfriend, wondering what it was that he’d done so very wrong to make Alexander feel like he couldn’t tell him why he was so distressed.

***

Magnus was upset with him the next day.

Alec woke in bed alone, the spot beside him cold when he reached out across the sheets to feel for Magnus and bury himself in his boyfriend’s touch. A frown flitted across his face when it became apparent that Magnus wasn’t there.

After a shower, he traipsed into the kitchen, hoping desperately that Magnus wasn’t going to bring up the previous night. He really, really didn’t want to talk about it.

“Morning,” Alec said, drifting, as he did every morning, towards the coffee machine. He reached up to the cupboard situated overhead and pulled down two mugs.

Magnus spared him a tight-lipped glance. “Morning.”

Well, shit.

Alec knew he deserved it. Magnus didn’t know, because he’d never fucking told him. It wasn’t Magnus’ fault that he didn’t understand. And after nearly two years, Alec was fairly certain that he should have told him by now. They should have had a conversation about it.

But it was a vicious cycle. It always was. Alec was too anxious to tell his boyfriend about his stupid anxiety.

Alec didn’t realise that he’d started rubbing harshly at the skin of his hand while he waited for the coffee machine to finish whirring, until Magnus said sharply, “Alec.”

Alec glanced down. His skin was turning red rather rapidly; he made himself rest his hands on the countertop to stop. “Sorry.”

Turning away to shake cereal into a bowl with far more force than was necessary, Magnus rolled his eyes. “It’s you who’s getting hurt, not me.”

“God.” Alec closed his eyes momentarily. “Magnus. I’m sorry.”

Magnus set the cereal box down hard. “Look, if you don’t want to tell me, fine. That’s up to you. But you don’t get to lie to me.”

That made Alec pause. “I didn’t lie to you.”

Magnus let out a biting, humourless laugh as he turned back to look at Alec with a hard expression in his usually soft eyes. “Really? You kept telling me you were fine. And you weren’t.”

“Why are we having this conversation now, and not last night?” Alec crossed his arms.

“Because it was three o’clock in the morning! It didn’t seem like the time for an argument.”

“You’re making this into an argument. Not me.”

“Because you’re lying to me!”

“But I’m _not_ , Magnus!”

And, really, wasn’t that the whole problem? He’d told Magnus that nothing was wrong, and that had been the truth. Nothing had happened. There was no tangible reason for him to have been so goddamn upset. And yet, he had been. Nothing was wrong, and yet everything was. Nothing had happened, and yet, in Alec’s fucked-up head, the world had imploded.

Why couldn’t he just tell Magnus that? He wanted to. So badly. But every time he opened his mouth to try to explain, the words caught, and he aborted. He couldn’t do it.

“I’m not,” he said again, more softly. “I wasn’t lying to you. Nothing happened.”

Magnus shook his head. “Things don’t have to happen for you to be upset, Alec.”

“I really don’t want to fight with you about this.”

“Neither do I.” An exhale left him. “But I don’t want to feel like you’re pushing me away.”

“Babe, if something happened, I’d tell you.”

And it was true. He would. He didn’t have any issue talking to Magnus about things when there were _things_ to talk about. It was this, the abstract, that he couldn’t do.

“Alright,” Magnus said. “I believe you. But you don’t have to tell me what’s going on to let me know that you’re not okay. If you don’t want me to pry, I won’t.”

“Nothing was going on.”

Magnus pinned him with a look. Alec relented.

“Okay, yes. I’ll admit that I’m upset when I’m upset.”

“Thank you.” Magnus leant forwards to brush a kiss against his cheek. “That’s all I ask.”

***

+1.

“Babe, come and tell me how much pasta you want so I don’t do too much!” Magnus called from the kitchen. “It’s going on in two minutes!”

 _Fuck_.

Alec inhaled deeply, cursing internally when his breath stuttered. “Gimme a sec,” he called back, through their closed bedroom door, hoping that the distance would muffle his voice enough for it to sound normal.

Taking another breath, he hauled himself away from the window and stumbled into the bathroom. He turned the tap to cold and shoved his hands under the water, before splashing it across his face. Objectively, it was probably exceptionally depressing that he’d got so good at this—at concealing any evidence of lingering tears, at calming down after a spree like this, at appearing normal. But it wasn’t like it was a new habit he’d developed in his relationship with Magnus. He’d been doing it since he was a teenager with everyone. At home, at school, at work— Well. Less at work. Less now, as an adult. But still. All the time. Everywhere.

“Alexander!” Magnus shouted again. “C’mon, otherwise I’ll have to guess and we’ll have two days worth of leftovers in my attempt to not underfeed you!”

“Yeah, coming!”

At least he didn’t look like he’d just been crying, Alec thought, glancing at himself in the mirror. But his voice still sounded odd—his throat felt tight, scratchy, and his words came out a little hoarse. And his hands, when he lifted them into his line of sight to open the door, were still trembling. He’d just have to be quick; he’d pretend he needed to grab his phone from the bathroom.

Alec strolled out of the bedroom as casually as he could, actively stopping himself curling his fingers into his palms. Magnus wouldn’t notice. Not while he was cooking. It’d be fine.

In the kitchen, Magnus was standing by the stove. He had a bag of pasta sitting beside a saucepan, and was in the process of cutting up vegetables to add into the mix. He was humming lightly under his breath, the sound of sizzling chicken overlaying whatever was playing on the radio, and, god, even though most of Alec wanted to flee right back into the bathroom, a part of him wanted to tuck himself into Magnus’ arms and never let go.

“Oh, hey,” Magnus said, half glancing up. “C’mere, tell me how much you want.”

Alec swallowed around the lump that had suddenly reformed in his throat, and felt his eyes burning. He didn’t blink, because if he did, it’d be game over.

But then, didn’t some part of him want it to be? Didn’t some part of him want to finally, finally stop hiding this from everyone he loved? Didn’t some part of him want to stop carrying all this on his own?

And, really, who else would it be that he admitted it to? It could only ever be Magnus, whom he trusted explicitly, with everything. It wasn’t a lack of trust in Magnus that had kept him holding onto this secret for so long—it was a lack of trust in himself.

The mere thought of letting go, of confessing, made the world momentarily blurry.

“Alexander?”

Magnus had looked up, properly this time, brow furrowed in confusion at Alec’s lack of response, and, probably, at the way Alec was just standing in the doorway staring at him.

“Are you alright, darling?”

The gentle concern in Magnus’ voice made his throat feel tight, and he felt his hands shake violently. He squeezed his fingers into fists, but, of course, Magnus’ quick gaze caught the movement.

“Sweetheart, please tell me what’s wrong,” Magnus said, so softly and with such sincerity that Alec was powerless to stop his lip trembling right before a sob broke out, sounding impossibly loud in the kitchen.

And then the dam broke.

Alec lifted his hands to his face as he dropped his gaze and turned away, shoulders curling in as he cried, right there, exposed for Magnus to see. He couldn’t control it, and the mortification was worse than everything else.

Magnus’ expression turned to one of alarm. He dropped the knife he was holding with a clatter and rushed over, brushing Alec’s hands out of the way to cup his boyfriend’s face between warm palms and stroke his thumbs against his temples. The tenderness of Magnus’ touch made Alec chance a glance up. Magnus’ eyes searched Alec's face, eyebrows drawn together in concern.

“Hey, what's the matter?” Magnus asked, eyes still roaming across his face in an attempt to find answers that Alec didn't know himself. Alec stared at him helplessly for a moment, and then closed his eyes against the piercing look that seemed to see right through to his soul. “Oh, darling, I’m sorry, come here.”

Alec accepted Magnus' hug easily, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in his neck as Magnus held him tightly, making soft, comforting noises in his ear. Jesus Christ, why couldn't he just stop fucking crying?

“I've got you,” Magnus murmured, rubbing a hand up and down his back. “I've got you. I'm here, baby, I’m here.”

“I'm sorry,” Alec got out, gasping a little.

“Shh, shh, it's okay, it's okay, breathe, just breathe.” One of Magnus' hands rose to press against the back of his skull, fingertips rubbing gently at his scalp as Alec took a deep, shuddering breath that kept getting caught on sobs. “It's alright, try again.”

Alec clung to Magnus, gripping at his shirt, the sensation of Magnus against him and the soft reassurances in his ear the only things tethering him to reality with his eyes screwed tight shut.

“Just listen to me,” Magnus said, “and breathe. Nothing else. Here, give me your hand.”

Alec’s hand found Magnus’, and Magnus pressed two of Alec’s fingers against the pulse in his neck. Magnus’ heartbeat was steady. Perhaps a little faster than usual, but steady—calmingly so. Alec lost himself to the thuds beneath his fingertips, letting its rhythm lull him back into a vague sense of normality.

“Okay, that’s better,” Magnus said, and pressed a warm kiss to Alec’s temple that lingered for a long, heavy moment. “I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry,” Alec said again, pressing closer to Magnus as embarrassment - and, more than that, shame - filled him.

“Nonsense. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” Magnus pulled back just far enough to see Alec’s face, and slid a thumb over one burning cheek. “Oh, Alec, please don’t be embarrassed. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” Alec said, shaking his head. “I’ve been lying to you.”

Magnus frowned. “About what?”

“ _This_. I– This happens all the time.”

Magnus arched an eyebrow. “You don’t normally come into the kitchen all teary eyed after a perfectly nice, normal Saturday and then cry, my darling.”

“No, I– I hide it from you, Magnus. I’ve been doing this since I was a teenager. And I just–” His breath hitched, but Magnus didn’t seem fazed, and merely ran his thumb against his cheek again while a war waged in his eyes. “When we started dating, after a few months I wanted to- to admit it, to tell you, because I trust you and I love you, but I just couldn’t. So I’ve hidden it. Not every time, obviously, you’ve seen me cry before, but...yeah. It gives me really bad anxiety. So most of the time I hide. Sometimes I get anxiety and it makes me cry, and I can’t tell you because trying to explain it makes it worse. That’s what happened today. Sometimes I get upset about something normal and just can’t let anyone see. It’s not...logical. It just is.”

Horror was making its way across Magnus’ face as Alec spoke. Alec could almost see the gears turning in his head as he flipped through their relationship, the last two years, going through all the times Alec might have been upset, the times Magnus nearly caught him—and then considering the plethora of others that Alec had hidden far, far too well.

“Alec,” Magnus said weakly. “Oh god.”

Alec dropped his gaze, unwilling to meet Magnus’ eyes. There was too much emotion there, and it made him feel impossibly guilty. He wasn’t sure he could cope with any more _feeling_ , on top of everything else he was trying to force down.

The sound of spitting drew their attention, and Magnus cursed at the sight of the chicken in the pan.

He turned back to Alec. “You go and sit down on the sofa while I sort this out, then I’ll make you some tea and we can talk about this, okay?”

Alec swallowed. “Okay.”

Magnus gripped the sides of his face gently and reached up to press a kiss to his forehead. “I love you. Always.”

Alec offered him a wavering smile. “I know. I love you too.”

Magnus pressed the backs of his fingers to Alec’s jaw, and then turned away to fix their dinner, taking the chicken off the heat and turning the stove down.

Alec curled up on the sofa, pressing himself into the corner of it, and tried not to let himself think too much. If he did, he’d end up choking with anxiety, and then Magnus would have to talk him down again, and he’d turn everything into even more of a mess than it already was.

“Here,” Magnus said, appearing to his right a few minutes later, a mug of tea in hand. “Have some of this.”

With a quiet thanks, Alec took the mug, pressing his hands around it and taking in its heat before sipping at it. He could feel Magnus watching him for a moment; eventually, Magnus sat down beside him, pulling his legs up onto the sofa. He was barefoot, and his toes curled as he tucked one foot under himself.

“Do you want to start?” Magnus asked, and Alec shook his head. “Can I talk, then?”

“Yeah.”

“I knew you had anxiety,” Magnus began, but, before he could get any further, Alec turned to stare at him in surprise.

“You did?” he blurted out.

Surprise flashed across Magnus’ face. “Of course I did. I’ve been dating you for more than two years. I’ve lived with you for one. I know that hot drinks calm you down, but that sugar and too much caffeine rile you up again, and I know that you don’t just watch what you eat to maintain your abs, and I know that sometimes you’re twitchy when you get a bad night’s sleep, not just grouchy. That’s why I nag you about going to bed. But I... Fuck, Alec, I didn’t realise that it was like this. I thought you’d got it under control. That’s not an accusation,” he added quickly. “I just can’t believe I missed this.”

“I’ve been practising hiding it for more than a decade,” Alec said, gazing down into his tea in lieu of looking at Magnus. “Nobody else I’ve ever lived with has noticed.”

“You’ve been struggling with this so much. Why didn’t you ever tell me? Especially...” Magnus shook his head. “You must know I would never have judged you. Not after I told you about my struggles with depression.”

“No, of course not. I meant what I said. I trust you. I just... I don’t know.” He looked up at Magnus in desperation, hoping to convey his meaning without words, because he didn’t know how to articulate it. “I was embarrassed, and I didn’t know when to tell you, or how, and I didn’t want it to become a big deal. I didn’t want you to start treating me like glass. Especially early on. I already felt so far away from you. And later, I... I don’t know. I just couldn’t. Sometimes I wanted to, but I couldn’t.”

“I wish you’d told someone,” Magnus said, with a sigh. “Not necessarily me, just someone. I can’t stand the thought of you having been dealing with this entirely on your own for so long.”

Alec shrugged. “It seems normal.”

“It shouldn’t,” Magnus said firmly. He held out a hand; Alec took it, and he felt tension bleed out of him at the touch. “From now on, please, please let someone help you. It doesn’t have to be a big deal, just– Tell someone when you start feeling like that. Before it escalates. Okay?”

“Someone is going to mean you,” Alec warned him. “Because you’re the only person who knows. Other than Izzy.”

“And I am more than happy to be that person for you, as you and Cat and Ragnor are for me.” Magnus squeezed his hand. “Just having someone to share it with makes it easier. But if it’s still bad, you should see a doctor about it.”

“I did,” Alec said. “When I was a teenager. They gave me meds, but they didn’t really help.”

“I had three different types of anti-depressants before they found ones that worked,” Magnus said. “I don’t need to take them very often anymore, because I’ve worked out what else in my life limits my depression, and I’m in a good, stable place, but when I do need to, they help. Just...I’m here for you if you want me to be, okay? If you want help with meds or therapy or just a hug.”

“It’s just...it’s expensive.”

Magnus arched an eyebrow at him. “Do we really need to have this discussion again?”

Alec’s lips twisted unhappily. “I don’t like spending your money.”

“What’s mine is yours.” Magnus held his gaze. “Sure, if you started throwing thousands of dollars around frivolously, we’d have a problem, but if you need help paying for medical bills, there is no way on earth I’m not helping you. We pay into a joint bank account for a reason. Understand?”

“Yeah.” Alec exhaled. “Thank you.”

“That’s okay.”

“It’s not- It’s not always that anxiety makes me cry. More often it’s that I cry about something normal and anxiety makes me not want to tell anyone that I’m upset. The anxiety itself I mostly have under control. Mostly. It’s just...I’ve never dealt with this bit of it. Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense,” Magnus said. “And Alec, I do understand why you didn’t tell me. Please know that I’m not upset about that.”

He picked at his sweatpants. “Yeah. Okay. I– It’s not bad, most of the time, it’s just certain things that get me. I don’t know, it’s like– I’m not anxious about all the things I was when I was sixteen. Just some.”

Magnus’ expression softened. “Come here.”

Magnus opened his arms in invitation, and frankly, Alec didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more inviting. He set his mug down on the coffee table and folded himself against Magnus, burying his face in Magnus’ neck like it was his last refuge on earth. Possibly, he just found the smell of Magnus’ sandalwood shampoo more comforting than anything else in the world.

“I deal with it better than I used to,” Alec mumbled, and he felt Magnus’ arms tighten around his waist in acknowledgement. “When I was a teenager, I used to try to get out of my head. I’d go to the archery range until it hurt too much to shoot any more, or punch something at the gym until my knuckles bruised, or run until I couldn’t breathe. I don’t do that anymore. Not really. And I used to have panic attacks all the time. I don’t have them often anymore.”

“That’s good,” Magnus said, running a hand down the length of his spine, fingers trailing over ridges and knobs. Alec sunk into the sensation and let his eyes flutter closed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“You have absolutely nothing to apologise for,” Magnus told him firmly. “Do you remember the day you knocked on my door with a bag of my favourite take-out after I told you I wasn’t well and spent two weeks avoiding you like the plague?”

A smile twitched at Alec’s lips. He pulled away from their embrace just enough to see Magnus’ face, and reached up to run a thumb across his cheek. “Of course I do. I spent those two weeks with a chronic case of overthinking.”

“I know,” Magnus said, with a fond smile. “I’m sorry about that. But honestly, if you hadn’t come to my apartment and caught me off guard and been so utterly, disarmingly sincere in the way you cared, I probably wouldn’t have told you the truth for a long time, either.”

The revelation wasn’t exactly pleasant, but nor did it bother or surprise Alec. He understood. Fuck, he’d done it. Mental health was a difficult topic to grasp—even your own. Sharing it with someone else and communicating its effects properly was nigh on impossible. And absolutely terrifying.

“I see your point,” Alec admitted. “I just– I’ve wanted to tell you, for so long. I just felt I couldn’t.”

Magnus smiled gently at him. “I understand. But I know now. And I’m here if you need me, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Alec returned his smile tentatively. “Thanks.”

“I love you,” Magnus told him, and Alec felt something tight and constricting in his chest loosen.

“I love you too.”

“I know it’s hard, but will you try to talk to me, in the future?”

Alec nodded. “Yeah. I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask, darling,” Magnus said, and leant in to kiss him softly.

Perhaps a kiss wasn’t going to fix everything, but, as Alec curled his fingers into the hair at the nape of Magnus’ neck, and as Magnus’ hand went to rest tenderly along the length of his jaw, Alec couldn’t help but think that it was a damn good start.

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t quite know how to sign this off, because I have never posted anything quite like this before. If you didn’t at the begin, I’d really appreciate it if you scrolled up and read the note at the beginning. 
> 
> As always, feel free to ask questions and have discussions in the comments! Thank you so, so much to everyone who’s read this fic, and I really hope you got something out of it :)
> 
> I’m on tumblr @notcrypticbutcoy and on Twitter @LucysRebelHeart
> 
> Much love,  
> Lu <3


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